Welcome to my home:
a place to rest,
a place to revive,
a place to pray.

Mac and I just celebrated our 35th wedding anniversary! We can now finish each others sentences.

Actually, a lot of times I'm pretty certain I know what Mac is going to say before he opens his mouth.

‍

One thing I know for sure about him and me is this: we will never not be a work-in-progress. (The double-negative is for emphasis purposes.)

We're companions, but not without occasional small (or sometimes large) miscommunication issues.

We've had happy times for sure, but not without hiccups too.

These things are the reality of a relationship.

Another thing I know for sure is this: our marriage is worth fighting for.

In honor of longevity, I thought I'd share how Mac and I fight to keep this thing going.

‍

Fighting for your marriage includes:

1. Fight for your marriage by celebrating it. Wave the "us" flag on a consistent basis! It's great to have individual things going on. Mac has his interests, and I have mine; but we've learned to also carve out together time. It's easier now that we are in our empty nest years, but at the same time, it's amazing what these years have brought to our calendar. We are also in the "sandwich years" of elderly parents and young grandchildren. So we have to fight for "us time" even still. Whether it's a date or a night away or a big trip across the ocean, don't let the marriage flag fall.

‍

2. Fight for your marriage with prayer. Invite the power of God into your relationship. Pray for each other and with each other. One of the greatest gifts Mac and I have given "us" is praying together. When praying out loud, I hear Mac's heart and he hears mine. And most importantly, God hears our heart together. And he never fails to help, encourage, and direct us. Prayer is a divine cord that binds us together. We just have to stay the course in doing it.

‍

3. Fight for your marriage in a common mission. Ask the Lord to give y'all a place in which you can serve together. This doesn't have to be overly complicated. Where is your common ground? Mac and I have gravitated to opening our home up in various ways. Whether it's our adult kids who bring friends in, or our neighbors, or family members, this is something we do together. Mac gets out the vacuum, and I pray over the room and bathroom as I get it ready for the next guest.

‍

However long you have been together--5 years, 15 years, 35 years, or beyond, make it your ambition to keep fighting for your marriage.

This kind of fighting is a win for the both of you.

‍

Fight the good fight... 1 Timothy 6:12

‍

For more tips on marriage, check out my book: https://www.amazon.com/25-Years-Lessons-Letters-Seasoned/dp/0692072748

‍

‍

I sketched this simple picture with these words in my journal the other day...

‍

Walk with God move mountains.

‍

As you can see this is two short sentences combined...And that's exactly what God is teaching me.

GOD is the one who moves mountains.

And when I walk with him, he has the opportunity to move mountains through me.

Think of Moses and the Red Sea, or David and Goliath.

Who wouldn't want to be used in these mighty ways?

‍

But, let's flip this question to God's perspective. He asks each of us this question:

Who of you wants to walk with me?

‍

There is a certain man in scripture who said, "I do!"

‍

His name is Enoch. He has always intrigued me.

All we know about him is found in Genesis 5:24:

Enoch walked with God, and he was not, for God took him.

‍

What did Enoch do in his lifetime? He walked with God.

Did he also do something as great parting a sea or slaying a giant?

We don't know.

But what we do know is what is most important: he walked with God.

Enoch's walk with God became his "mountain-moving-mantra."

‍

In our relationship, God is just as much concerned about the quiet waters and the green pastures

with us as he is about "moving mountains" through us. In fact, one begets the other.

‍

When we choose to walk with God at a slow pace, he restores us our soul.

He gives us his Spirit in full measure. He gives us his peace.

He gives us his power in our inner being!

‍

Let's be OK with lingering long with him in the hills and the valleys.

Let's not rush to get to the finished product, the high adventure, or the ultimate goal.

Let's refocus our gaze on our Savior who walks by our side with mercy and grace.

Let's relax.

‍

Life is in the moment, no matter how mundane or small it may seem, especially if you

are cherishing who you're with and saying a prayer over them at the same time.

Now that's power, both for both the present and the future.

‍

Let's be like Moses, and like David.

But let's also be like Enoch.

‍

Walk with God move mountains.

I needed a weekend to pull away.

It had been a month since my husband Mac and I received news via a family text from our son Davis. His wife Acacia, 36 weeks pregnant, had just had an ultrasound due to her not feeling the baby move for a little while.

The text read:

"Very sad news

Baby is stllborn

His name is

Brave Rutherford Baxter."

Needless to say, we were stunned. Acacia's pregnancy had been text book perfect. Strong heartbeat throughout for both Mama and baby. The news on October 20, 2024 took us all by complete surprise.

‍

I grieved for Davis and Acacia. I grieved for my other adult kids who were processing it all. And I grieved for us as a family. I was tired in every way. So, with Mac having plans to be out of town for the weekend, I seized the opportunity to grieve on a personal level. I kept saying to myself, "I need to go deep into the heart of God." Thankfully by God's grace, I was not saying "I need to go deep into the pit of despair."

‍

Over these two days, I took to the Lord, the painful memories of the first week that we spent with Davis and Acacia after receiving the tragic news. I asked the Lord to show me where he was in each of these hard places. I did not doubt his presence, but I just needed him to give me more clarity in some way, that even in the dark, his love was there.

‍

I will share one of many places that I brought to the Lord:

‍

My son Brent (Davis' brother) and I drove from Nashville to the hospital in Charlotte on the day Acacia was induced. (Mac would fly in later). My heart broke for her as she labored all day long. Meanwhile, we drove all day, having to take alternate routes due the Helene hurricane damage. My eyes kept burning from the mix of the bright sunshine on our windshield and my intermittent salty tears. My throat stayed tight with a ready sob at any minute. While we drove, Brent and I prayed for LIFE, believing in the Author of it. We hoped against hope that little Brave would "come out crying."

‍

We arrived around 9pm, just before Acacia delivered Brave. I tapped gently on their door, room 8611, and stepped quietly in. A curtain blocked my view, so I, with permission, peeked my head around it to let them see that we had arrived. The sight of these two, Acacia in the bed, and Davis by her side--somber instead of excited, sadness instead of joy, dark instead of light, was a weight of grief that I almost couldn't hold. I tucked it way down inside so it wouldn't buckle me right then and there. I needed to be strong for them. I lovingly waved my hand to Davis, nodded showing support, and stepped out of the room.

‍

It is this memory and others like it that I had to go deep into the heart of God and ask, "Where were you, God? Show me your tender love for these two. Where is your light in this dark place? Show me your glory."

His answer to me was this:

They were under the shadow of my wings. With these words, peace flooded in.

I looked up Scriptures that referenced God's people being underneath his wings, and there are many.

Psalm 57:1-2 is fitting for what was happening on October 21, 2024 in room 8611 with Davis, Acacia, and little Brave:

‍

"Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me, for in you my soul takes refuge; in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge, till the storms of destruction pass by."

‍

Yes, a dark storm was in that room. Destruction was present.

But so was God.

And God always has the final word.

‍

I know we are called to walk by faith, not by sight, but when I put the living Word into this scene, my mind's eye is able to see Jesus himself holding Davis and Acacia, with his loving arms wrapped around both of them. They were underneath his protective care. And his presence, his light, overcomes the darkness.

‍

I choose to no longer view this memory without the living Hope being present in the midst of it. Davis and Acacia, in their deepest sorrow, were being tenderly embraced by their loving Savior. And he holds the ultimate victory, life eternal.

‍

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for leading me to your healing words of truth.

‍